Cyber Chitchat
by Simkaye
Summary: Miss Miller tries to decipher what Brittany's 'cyber chat language'. Can Brittany convince her it isn't as bad as it seems? Based on the story from 'HogwartsWitch4Eva', "Random Chipmunk Chat'. Cute oneshot.


**Hi there! Just a short little oneshot I wrote with Rose because I was kind of bored. This story is dedicated to 'HogwartsWitch4Eva', who wrote this hilarious story, "Random Chipmunk Chat". This is a cute oneshot from Miss Miller's point of view about Brittany's e-mail language she uses.  
Ashley is an OC of mine. She isn't important. **

**Chipmunks don't belong to me!**

* * *

I'm glad we teach spelling in our schools. That way, our children can busy themselves unlearning it when they log onto the Internet.

One day last week, I stood and watched my fourteen-year-old "chat" with some friends via email. I thought I'd take the opportunity to moniter the electronic conversation being passed between these preteens – who long ago decided the telephone wasn't good enough for them.

Looking over her shoulder, I very quickly found that I needed a translator to decipher what was being said. Squinting down at the monitor, I asked my daughter, Brittany, "What kind of atrocious spelling is _this_? And what does it mean?"

Peeved at the interruption, she kept typing and answered, "What does _what _mean?"

"That writing on the screen. The jargon your friends are sending you, which sounds an awful lot like how E.T. talked in the movie. Look… here comes some more… 'CU lata.' Now what does _that _mean? Is it a new coffee flavor of some kind?"

"_No, _Miss Miller," she answered, sighing. "It means – oh, wait a minute!" She quickly typed in, "BRB, every1," and turned patronizingly around to me. "You see," she began, "we use a different type of spelling when we chat online. It's much easier and saves time. It's pronounced the same as always, but it's quicker to type and read. For example, when I want to say, 'Be right back, everyone," I use, 'BRB, every1,' instead. Or, I'll hit 'CU lata,' rather than type out, 'See you later.' It's a real time saver."

"Oh, I see," I said, thoughtfully.

After observing further, I momentarily asked, "Then what about this word, 'kewl'? I assume it means, 'cool' but it has the same number of letters either way."

"Phonetically, it makes more sense," she explained. "Why waste time using some English linguist's twist on the alphabet when 'kewl' comes off the fingertips more naturally?"

"Hmm," I mused. "I wonder what your second grade teacher would think about that…"

"Oh, you mean Mrs. Jonz?"

"No – I mean Mrs. _Jones_," I corrected. "She took a great care in teaching you how to spell words like, 'about,' 'until,' 'know,' 'better,' and 'nothing.' Yet for all her efforts, you're sending e-mail messages like this one," I motioned toward the screen, "'Dear Ashley: Can't tell U any more bout tat cute kid in our class till I no sumthing. Betta go now; nutting more to say – Me.'"

Looking down at her hands poised on the keyboard, I expected her eyes to start showing some chagrin. Instead, she had them trained on the computer monitor, and an incoming response from Ashley. "Waz up?" it read. Got your message but g2g now, as sorta have gobs of HW. Talk2U lata, KK?"

"G2g…?" I started to ask.

"Got to go!" Brittany answered, typing feverishly.

"Oh," I said. "And I suppose 'KK' means, 'Okay.'"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that rather babyish? Don't you remember those months we spent teaching you how to talk? Have you no appreciation for what you are undoing here?"

Before I could continue my lecture, the instant-messaging box we'd been using to 'I.M." Ashley suddenly grew into three boxes, each with a different name attached. Then it multiplied into four, then five, then six.

My young e-mailer was really feverent now – reading messages from six friends simultaneously, scanning each box for pertinent news and typing in jumbles of consonants in reply. I'd never seen anything like it. There had apparently be a prearranged log-on time, which all seven friends honored unconditionally. Clearly, it put to shame the previous generation's system of passing around an in-class note that read, "Everyone meet at the swing-set after school so we can all _talk_."

I could see why she abbreviated. This was like playing bingo with six cards at once. Except that these girls could type faster than any Bingo announcer could shout numbers.

Cross-eyed from reading and deciphering incoming messages from all parts of the city, I finally closed my eyelids and rubbed them hard, walking away. And I thought my three-way calling telephone service was the ultimate in communication. Obviously, I didn't know what "ultimate" really was. _Now_ all I need is an adult education course that teaches this new 'shoddy-spell' e-mail language to floundering parents. If I find one, I'll sign up in a heartbeat.

… And b betta off 4 it, I'm shur.

* * *

**Yeah, super short. Hope you liked it!**

**P.S. Sorry, my stories are taking longer than I expected. I will post some soon, but school has started for me, so some delay on my writing, I'm warning you. **

**And also, to you guys who voted 'They Come at Night' to be on the best Horror story... Gosh, I'm so honored! Thank you so much, I give a thousand tears of gratitude to you guys! I thank you all from the bottom of my heart; it really means a lot to me. And Wendy... sorry about that. You weren't really supposed to read it. (I thought I put a warning on it...) Rose feels kinda bad about the whole thing... hahaha... **


End file.
